Promises, Promises...
(This story was posted on the Utopia Skye forums on September 28, 2005 by Errand.) ---- “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” That is, after all, what the Paladin had told himself atop the Tirisfal tower as the battle between the Champions and the Horde who protected the Forsaken Queen raged on. “Take the zeppelin! Cut off their ability to send reinforcements!” They were outnumbered sorely - at least five to one. And yet, those who had sworn their oath would not falter in their quest. Errand spat, tasting the coppery crimson that trickled along his lips and chin. A blow from the knuckles of a massive Tauren’s gauntlet had busted his mouth open, a steady flow of blood tainting his senses. Reeling back to catch himself on the railing, the man lifted his shield just in time to intercept the giant, oncoming hammer. With a grimace, he braced himself… now tumbling back through the weak reinforcements of the tall zeppelin tower. At the bottom he laid, half-lidded gaze peering in to the black sky above. The cries of his fellow Champions were little more than a hollow echoing in his mind, neck muscles relaxing as his head slumped off to the side. He sighed gently before his breathing came to a halt, and the Paladin’s conscious mind slipped in to oblivion... … “He has fallen, milord. An accident… in Tirisfal claimed… claimed his life”, the Kaldorei spoke in hushed tones as she kneeled before the Archbishop, bowing her head in sorrow. While the Humans and the Night Elves certainly had their differences, there were often strong bonds formed between individuals. Cerewyn and Errand were a perfect case. Their friendship forged in the heat of battle, both the Huntress and the Paladin had vowed to protect one another. ‘Until the death’, they’d often exchanged grins as gauntlets and gloves clasped together in a mutual show of respect. The man frowned visibly at the news, brows furrowing in concern. “I see. I will send representatives of the Church, to ensure proper … proper burial. You … did recover the man’s body, yes?”, Benedictus sighed softly, carefully dodging further conversation pertaining to these particular formalities. It was apparent that the damage had already been done, as the Kaldorei female began to nod her head, shoulders shaking violently with each sorrow-filled sob. The Huntress’s resolve crumbled, thin hands reaching out to clutch at the man’s feet in a desperate attempt to find some comfort. “Errand… Errand N—“, the female’s cries were interrupted by the soft voice at the entrance of the Cathedral. “Cerewyn”, the male voice called to her. The Huntress’s breathing seized, and she felt the tiny hairs of her neck stand on edge. Likewise, the Archbishop’s gaze turned sharply to the armored male standing in the doorway. Trembling, Cerewyn stood to her feet… turning to face. Firefly gaze met two piercing azure orbs that were … very much alive. The shining, golden armor he wore brought the man's presence even further to life. There she stood frozen for some time, as if waiting for the dream to end abruptly. “… How?”, the Huntress felt her knees buckling, making cautious strides toward the man. “A long story, I assure you. Let us say that something far greater agrees that my work here is unfinished”, lips curved upward at their corners, reaching out a hand toward her. The Kaldorei female nearly shrieked with excitement, footsteps hastening to a run as she lept in to the arms of her friend. An assortment of kisses were pressed against the man’s cheeks, forehead, and nose as she laughed aloud, sniffing once to clear away what inconveniences the weeping had brought. “I missed you, Eri! I thought for sure …”, Cerewyn sighed, then shook her head, grinning broadly at him as she dismissed the thought. The Paladin smiled briefly at her, icy gaze lifting to regard the Archbishop quietly. The pair exchanged that same, silent stare for what seemed a full minute before Benedictus spoke firmly, albeit with the hints of a smile all his own. “If I may be so bold as to inquire, Knight, what is this unfinished business you refer to?”, the Archbishop tilted his head to the side curiously. Errand stepped forward a bit to stand adjacent to a teacher, and an old friend of his… Duthorian. A sidelong glance and a knowing grin spared for the man, before attentions returned to the Archbishop. “With all due respect, milord, this does not concern the Church”, he smiled slightly. Benedictus lifted a brow at the man’s vague speech, waiting for some clarification. Behind him, Cerewyn blinked several times at the bold words of her friend. Even still, she knew what he spoke of. “But I assure you, it does concern … the Light. Not as you or I understand it, however.” “Oh?” “I’ve a promise that has yet to be kept”, Errand smiled slightly, lifting a single red rose between his index and middle finger. Benedictus pursed his lips thoughtfully, nodding in acceptance. He had an idea of what he was referring to, now. “… You see, I am a man bound to my word.” Category:Warcraft Skye RP